Hans said hello to her, he always said hello to her. Which would be fine, if he didn't say it each time like he were doing Mora a favor. She folded her hands in her lap, her fingers pressing into her palms, and the quiet charge she’d shared with Cael slipped away like smoke.
"What did you do today?" Hans asked her.
"Not very much," she said.
"You should ask me," he mentioned.
She winced. Her mouth twitched like she might obey.
But she felt a spark, white-hot, like it had carelessly lifted from the forging of something sharp and hard inside her. Something Cael had put there, she carried it in her ribs.
"I should?" she asked, playing dumb.
She imagined Cael watching, out of the corner of his eye, even if he did not look outright.
He was listening. Curious about how she handled a man like Hans, in the aftermath of a man like him.
"Yeah, remember last time when I talked to you about comradery. It's built on the back of...," Hans paused, like she might remember what he was talking about. She only stared. "Decency," he reminded her.
"Are you calling me indecent?" she asked, letting her head tip like a bemused puppy.
"Well, no, I-," Hans scrambled, not appreciating the challenge. Mostly, not expecting it. "I never said that. It's just reputations are built on habit, and habit is going to keep you stuck."
"I'm not stuck," she snapped, moving to her feet. "Nobody asked you." She turned heel, walking away. She could hear the teeth of Cael's blade on the whetstone as he ground again. Imagined a small twitch in his jaw but did not pause to check.
"Did that not go how you planned?" Cael asked him.
The sound of his voice stopped her in the trees, though her steps had been so quick.Â
Hans turned slowly, as if he had not seen Cael before. But Cael knew he had.Â
"I try to be helpful," Hans said. "Poor girl's a pariah."
Cael blew on his blade. Small particles took to the air, scattered. "She is too pretty to be a pariah," he said. "Are you trying to make her your wife?"
Hans laughed, as if he hadn't thought of it. But Cael only looked at him like he did not believe him.
"She's a sweet girl," Hans said. "But there are lots of sweet girls without reputations like hers."
"Then why are you so interested in fixing her?" Cael asked, raising a dark brow. He pointed with his knife, carelessly, into the overhead boughs of leaves. "If you do not care."
"Just trying to make the tribe better, for everyone," Hans said, and Cael snorted, low.
"You could start a choir," Cael said. "Volunteer in the nursery to rock the orphans. Could get on your knees and shine the Master of the Hunt's shoes. But you choose the noble cause, of leading naive maidens."
Hans expression shifted, momentarily confused. "I didn't know you knew her like that," he said.
"I know what I saw," Cael said, rising. He slid the blade into the sheath at his waist. Fixed Hans with a final look. "And that was enough."Â
He walked past, there shoulders brushing then knocking just. Hans stayed there several seconds longer, wondering what had just happened.